


For the Dancing and the Dreaming

by adelaide_rain



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Dancing, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-14 01:24:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4544790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adelaide_rain/pseuds/adelaide_rain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At Aveline's wedding, Fenris asks Hawke to dance with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the Dancing and the Dreaming

“You look beautiful, big girl,” Isabela says to Aveline with a smile, and she does; her wedding dress is cream, decorated with simple lace, and she has a copper marigold clip in her hair.

The wedding is in the garden of Hawke’s estate. There are buffet tables, _lots_ of wine and ale, and a small band is playing some traditional Fereldan music. Hawke doesn’t even know most of the people here, but everyone is smiling and happy. Their close friends are crowding around Aveline, congratulating her, but Hawke’s standing a little apart from the others, feeling unexpectedly emotional.

Of course, he knew he’d be somewhat emotional; Aveline is his oldest friend and one of his best. But he didn’t expect to be on the verge of tears. Perhaps it’s that he was so involved in getting the two of them together - and how much of a challenge that was - that makes him feel so overwhelmed. Aveline deserves this, more than anyone he’s ever met. The way she’s smiling so unreservedly, the way she’s looking at Donnic with so much love in her eyes, makes him so _happy._

“I’ve never been to a wedding before,” Fenris says, quietly, from Hawke’s side, having moved away from the group as well. Hawke glances down at him. His heart hurts when he sees Fenris, like it always does, but it doesn’t diminish his joy. If anything, it makes it brighter. He wants to kiss Fenris - he won’t, of course, but he wants to.

He glances down at Fenris’s wrist, where a flash of red silk is bright against his grey shirt. Hawke’s never been sure what it means that Fenris still wears his favour. Perhaps Fenris doesn’t understand the importance of it - but no, Hawke’s sure he does. Fenris refuses to talk about what happened, and they’ve not done anything since, but…

“I’ve not been to many weddings either,” Hawke says, at least in part to stop himself from overthinking the matter for the thousandth time. “Well – I've been to some recently, as Champion, but being forced to go to the political wedding of someone you barely know isn’t really the same thing.“

“No,” Fenris agrees, and they watch as Donnic takes both of Aveline’s hands and sweeps her off into a dance. Isabela pulls Anders over for a dance as well, ignoring his vehement protests.

“I wish I could join in,” Merrill says, and Varric bows to her.

“Then may I have this dance, my lady?”

She giggles. “I’m not sure how to. I’ll probably step on your feet!” Considering she’s barefoot as always, and Varric is wearing boots, that’s not really a danger.

“You’re worth the risk, Daisy,” he says, and leads her towards the dancers.

“Hawke,” Fenris starts, and then clears his throat. “Hawke, would you - care to dance with me?”

“Yes,” Hawke says, before Fenris has even finished asking.

“I’m not sure how good I’ll be,” Fenris says, looking away, and there’s a distinct touch of pink to his cheeks. Hawke fights the urge to touch. “I’ve seen dances, but never taken part in one.”

“Attending those weddings as Champion has given me lots of practice,” Hawke says. “I could teach you.”

“I’d like that,” Fenris says, and lets Hawke take his hand, put the other to his waist, and carefully show him the steps before they join the dancers. It’s hard to concentrate with Fenris so close - Hawke can feel his body heat, they’re _holding hands_ \- but Fenris picks it up easily, even with Hawke’s flustered directions.

It’s a simple dance, and it’s not exactly a formal event. In the space cleared for dancing, Isabela is being far too sexual, and Anders appears to be doing an impression of a stork; Merrill and Varric are making up their own dance which isn’t exactly graceful but it does look like a lot of fun. Aveline and Donnic are in a world of their own, lost in each other, paying just enough attention to their surroundings to avoid crashing into anything. Most of the other dancers are at least trying to follow the steps, but a combination of alcohol and Hawke’s friends getting in the way mean that no-one is sticking too closely to the dance.

“Are you ready to join them?” Hawke asks, nodding at the others, and Fenris nods.

“Yes. I’m enjoying this.”

“Me too,” Hawke murmurs, and their eyes meet. It’s just for a moment, but Fenris looks so - affectionate. Warm. Hawke has no idea what _he_ looks like - it’s probably best not to think too much about it - but whatever Fenris sees there makes him smile softly.

“Come, then,” Fenris says. “Let’s show them how this is done.”

Hawke’s glad it’s a simple dance, because there’s no way he can pay much attention to the steps when he has Fenris in his arms. And the smiles Fenris keeps giving him - Maker, Hawke’s not sure how much of this he can take.

By the end of the dance, Anders has stepped on Fenris’s feet, _somehow_ , and they had to be separated before they started fighting. Isabela’s disappeared off somewhere with a pretty guardswoman, Varric’s in the middle of telling some of his tales of the Champion, and Merrill’s drunkenly trying to tell jokes that would only make sense to another Dalish elf.

“All in all, I’d say it’s been a good night,” Aveline says to Hawke, joining him at the side of the garden. She pulls the marigold pin from her hair and plays with it, watching their friends. 

Hawke looks at Fenris, who’s listening to Varric’s story with a raised eyebrow, and smiles. “Yes. It has.” He kisses Aveline’s cheek, and she chuckles.

“Now, now, Hawke, you don’t want my husband to get jealous, do you?” The slight emphasis she puts on _husband_ , and the way she smiles over at Donnic is painfully sweet.

“Speaking of your husband - isn’t it time for the wedding night?”

“Hawke!”

He laughs. “Isabela’s already left, so _someone_ had to say it.”

She shakes her head. “You’re terrible, you know that?” She pauses, and then she kisses _his_ cheek. “Thank you, Hawke. Without you, this would never have happened. I owe you a lot.”

“Nonsense. That’s what friends do.”

She looks pointedly over at Fenris, and then back to Hawke. “Is there anything I can do to help _you?”_

“I think we just need time.”

 _“More_ time? It’s been almost three years, Hawke.”

Fenris looks over then, and smiles at him - just at him - for a moment, before turning back to Varric’s tale.

“Just a little more time.”

Donnic comes over to steal his new bride away, and slowly but surely the rest of the guests trickle out. When he’s alone, Hawke is slightly concerned to see the mess they’ve made of his garden.

“Would you like some help clearing up?” The voice makes Hawke jump.

“Fenris! I thought everyone had gone.”

Fenris looks aside. “Would you like me to go?”

“No! Definitely not. And – no, I’ll leave the tidying up until tomorrow. Let’s just enjoy the rest of the night. Would you like a drink?”

Fenris nods, and they take a bottle of wine with them to a bench at the side of the garden. They share it, and they talk. It’s nice. They don’t do this often enough, spend time together, just the two of them with nothing else to do. For obvious reasons, but- It’s nice.

Most of the candles have burned out, and Hawke is looking up at the sky. It’s a clear night, and the stars are bright, and this? Sitting outside, looking up at the stars with Fenris by his side? This is romantic.

“Dance with me again, Hawke?” Fenris asks, putting the now-empty wine bottle on the ground.

“There’s no music,” Hawke says, but Fenris only chuckles, and stands, and offers Hawke his hand. The one with red silk wrapped around the wrist.

“Do we need music?” 

“No. No, we don’t.” Hawke puts his hand in Fenris’s and lets himself be pulled to his feet.

They dance under the stars, without music, needing nothing more than each other.

Maybe they’re not ready to say that aloud, just yet, but Fenris rests his head on Hawke’s chest, making him smile.

They just need a little more time.

**Author's Note:**

> This came as a result of a prompt on tumblr asking for Fenris and Hawke at Aveline's wedding. [Here are the others, if you're interested.](http://raininginadelaide.tumblr.com/tagged/3-sentence-fenhawke)


End file.
